And Lost No Inch of Place
by Undomiel Regina
Summary: Taki has no idea what Klaus is doing or what he's getting out of it, but he's determined to let them both enjoy it this time. [Klaus/Taki, dom/sub and boot worship. No sex.]


Taki lowered himself into one of the chairs in his office, careful to keep his descent controlled, though all he wanted was to collapse and wearily bury his head in his hands. Even if he would have unbent thus in a potentially public place, when he had never done so willingly at all save when coaxingly, concertedly overwhelmed until rational thought and inhibitions were both forgotten, he was not, at present, alone in the room. Klaus had followed at his heels, as no other of his acquaintance would have dared, and now sat across from him in comfortable disarray, shirt vanished somewhere, sprawling with his usual casual lack of deference.

Taki realized he was staring and bent hastily to pull at his boots, feeling a faint flush of heat in his cheeks. He could not find it in himself to be unhappy at Klaus's easy familiarity; he no longer dug down as deeply within himself in search of disapproval, sick with terror that he could be so weak, so careless of the faith his people had entrusted in him.

He had unknowingly fallen into a brown study, bent in two holding his ankle, so that he started in surprise when he felt hands rest gently over his own. Looking up revealed Klaus kneeling easily before him.

"Let me, Taki."

Somewhat bemused and uncertain of what Klaus could want, Taki nodded and sat back in his chair. He offered no resistance as Klaus lifted his foot and set it in his lap, casting Taki back to the early days in Luckenwalde when they had sat very nearly thus, Klaus tending to the blisters he had developed over long marches carrying unaccustomed weight. Klaus's hands were as gentle now as they had been then, no longer clutching with desperate, furious strength as though Taki might wrench himself away and vanish forever if he did not cling so fiercely.

Then, all past parallels vanished as Klaus took wholly unanticipated action. He lifted Taki's foot again, raising it to chest height, and bent his head to press a kiss to the toe of his boot. Taki had been transfixed, as always, by Klaus's behavior, but this caused him to stiffen in alarm. It was not right that his knight should look so humbled before him. Even as his muscles tensed in preparation to draw back his foot, Klaus's grip tightened convulsively and he raised his head to stare up into Taki's eyes.

Taki's breath caught. Far from humble or shamed, Klaus's face showed only heated, lupine hunger. It was the expression Taki had never been able to bring himself to wholly deny, and seeing it now, he relaxed. If Klaus desired this, was not abasing himself as a penitent, Taki had no wish to deny him.

He dredged up a smile from some dark corner and could feel that it was a poor offering, uncertain and tremulous. But Klaus's response was everything he could have hoped for and more; his hold loosened, his entire posture shifted and eased, and his face, still raised to stare up at Taki, took on a hopeful cast that Taki remembered from their earliest days together and had scarcely seen since.

Klaus bent his head and once more pressed his mouth against the leather of Taki's boot. His head moved. Taki saw that there was moisture beading where his lips had been and realized with a jolt that Klaus must be open-mouthed, dragging his tongue in a slow lick. If Taki had been fascinated before, he was now mesmerized, utterly unable to turn away from the deliberate movement of Klaus's head and the trail of dampness that marked its passage.

As he moved to Taki's calf, Klaus's head tilted to the side, allowing Taki his first sight of Klaus's face: eyes half-lidded with concentration and pleasure both, tongue just visible, pressed flat against the dark leather. A moan escaped Taki, slipping from between clenched teeth, and he clawed at the armrests of his chair, fighting the instinctive shame that demanded he tense and pull away, hide how the sight affected him. He managed to contain the tension to his upper body and left his leg resting easily in Klaus's gentle grasp. His effort was well rewarded when his knight did not pause but only groaned aloud as if in answer, his eyes falling momentarily shut.

When Klaus reached the top of the boot, he moved back down to drag his tongue across the toe. His movements were slow and methodical; Taki could see in them his usual intense desire harnessed to careful deliberation. It made Taki for once capable of largely predicting Klaus's next move, and the anticipation left him intensely focused and present in ways to which he was entirely unused. He found the experience something of a mixed blessing. Capacity for thought both allowed him greater control over reflexes which would have distressed Klaus, and made the emotions that prompted them far harder to ignore. Still, Klaus's passion and the relaxed pleasure evident in the set of his well-muscled shoulders were ample recompense, as were the brief glimpses of his tongue and the slight upward curve of his dampened lips.

Klaus was clearly relishing the taste and feel of the leather. Taki held himself under rigid control, determined not to disrupt Klaus's pleasure in the service — for it must be at least partly that, he understood, or he would have been elsewhere with an empty boot and privacy, not resisting his lord's attempt to withdraw. To keep faith with his knight, Taki would not permit himself to flinch.

When he had dampened every inch of the boot with his tongue, Klaus took a firm grip at Taki's heel and calf, pulling with a careful, steady strength. The boot came free and Taki's foot fell into Klaus's lap. Setting the boot aside, he lifted the foot and caressed it gently. Taki sucked in a breath, startled by the sudden intensity of sensation. Klaus's pleased smile flickered briefly into being, though he did not press the issue and grant Taki the shameful comfort of overwhelmed incoherence, but instead set his foot gently on the floor.

Klaus shifted slightly, lifted Taki's other leg, and once more began with the same reverent kiss. This time, Taki was prepared and neither froze nor sought to draw away. He was becoming concerned about the lengthy time they had spent thus, as the room was not strictly private. But he clung to the knowledge that Klaus would surely straighten at the first indication that they were no longer alone, and any interloper would see only a subordinate helping his commander in ways that were, perhaps, over-intimate, but not compromising (unless they looked more closely, noticed his lips reddened and wet with spittle, his eyes darkened by passion, but no one save himself ever saw his knight so clearly.)

Klaus dealt with the second boot much the same as the first, save that his caress to Taki's stockinged foot was more lingering, as though he could not bear to be finished with his task. As he set down Taki's foot, the uncomfortable roil of desire and shame within Taki eased sufficiently that he released his grip on the armrests and placed his hands in his lap. The movement caught Klaus's eye and he looked Taki full in the face, his expression still intensely hungry, but with the look in his eyes beginning to shade toward deviltry.

He reached out and, catching Taki's right hand in his own, raised it to his lips. The gesture was a familiar one, which at once both calmed Taki and increased his concern. This act, well-established between them and outwardly indicative only of fealty, could not be what placed that look of mischief in Klaus's eyes, nor the faint smirk on his lips — especially not when Taki's hands were still gloved, distancing the intimacy of his act.

Taki was correct in his suspicions. Klaus placed the expected kiss on his knuckles, a light brush he scarcely felt before it was over, then turned his hand to press another kiss onto the palm. This time, Taki felt a lingering, firm pressure and a gradual warming from Klaus's own heat, and then Klaus's lips moved and he startled at an unexpected lighter sensation that he realized abruptly was Klaus licking his leather-covered palm.

This was terrifying, revealing as it did depths of both sentiment and longing that Taki did not believe he could ever convey himself, though he wished nothing more than to respond as it deserved. (That, too, had not ceased to concern him, that Klaus had somehow gained such precedence over his people, that he could even dream of forgetting himself so far as to abandon them in pursuit of his own selfish desires.) His free hand clenched in his lap and he lost the courage to continue meeting Klaus's gaze, looking away from that honest, greedy devotion he could never properly answer.

Taki's last glimpse of Klaus's expression, caught from the corner of his eye, showed his face wiped clean of all pleasure. He released Taki's hand immediately and began to lean back, but Taki responded swiftly, unwilling to force his knight to bear the weight of his sins, and grabbed Klaus's hand before he could move out of reach. He clung desperately, and at his touch, Klaus fell immediately still.

There followed a long moment of detente. Taki had used up his remaining courage with his last movement, and Klaus was clearly unwilling to risk the consequences of further forwardness. They sat silent with their joined hands between them, each breathing harshly from an excess of fear.

As they sat in tense stillness, it slowly became clear to Taki that Klaus had no intention of again slipping his leash. He was apparently content to wait until Taki offered him clearer direction. Taki sat unmoving for the space of several long, careful breaths, steeling himself for unaccustomed daring. Then, in a rush of decisive motion, he leaned forward to lay his free hand against Klaus's cheek. That small act left him again frozen, staring at Klaus with his eyes full of terror. Klaus's response was barely perceptible, the slightest curve of his neck so that his head nestled more firmly into the touch. He took a few deep, panting breaths and spoke, voice a low, rough growl.

"I won't be able to hold back if you continue, Taki."

Taki calmed slightly at the words, suggestive as they were of a promise that he would soon be able to cede the initiative, and slowly, carefully trailed his hand down Klaus's cheek until his thumb came to rest against the corner of his mouth, just brushing the edge of his lips. Klaus's eyes shut and he exhaled in a massive sigh, tension finally leaving him once more. He turned farther into Taki's hand, until he could take his thumb into his mouth. He bit down at the base firmly enough that Taki would have felt pain without the leather of his glove blunting the pressure.

Although he felt his heart quicken and his breath come shorter, Taki resolutely made no attempt to resist Klaus's hold, and the strength of his bite decreased slightly. He felt a series of muted sensations as Klaus licked and sucked at his thumb, before his hand was suddenly released altogether. The abrupt loss of contact was shocking, and would have been worrying if Klaus's expression had ever varied from heavy-lidded contentment.

Klaus brought his hands back into play, undoing the tiny button at the wrist of Taki's glove with more ease and delicacy than it seemed his large fingers should have possessed. Then he dropped his hands again, but rather than place them at his sides or in his lap as he had done before, he laid them on Taki's thighs. It was a place he had never touched, save in their most intimate moments, and Taki released a small, stifled gasp, filled with commingled fear and hope that Klaus would forget his promises and take what they both wished Taki could freely grant him. Klaus instead bent his head to recapture Taki's thumb, but this time did not take it wholly into his mouth. He bit hard at the tip, just where Taki's thumb ended, and jerked his head sharply. Taki felt the glove loosen and realized, dry-mouthed, what Klaus must be about.

Klaus repeated the action with each finger in turn, then bit the empty tips of the three middle fingers and yanked in a series of short jerks of his head. Eventually, the glove came free enough that a single sustained tug removed it entirely. He sat for a moment, the glove dangling from his mouth giving him rather the look of a large, playful dog that had just stolen a new toy, then dropped it into a hand, smoothed it, and set it carefully aside on the floor. He leaned forward to recapture Taki's hand with his mouth.

The sudden intense feeling of warmth and wetness on his bare skin overwhelmed Taki after so much dulled sensation, finally carrying him away in a tide of lust that was beyond rational thought. He began to pant and stared at Klaus in stunned, wondering desperation. Klaus had two of Taki's fingers in his mouth now, running his tongue around, over and between them. Each touch drove Taki farther past fear, doubt, self-hatred, and even caution.

Klaus moved on to the next fingers, until they were all spit-slicked and caressed. At the last, his thumb, a final sweeping lick to the pad wrung a rare unstifled moan from Taki that shocked them both into stillness for an instant. Then, Klaus smiled his lupine grin, swiped his tongue twice over Taki's palm, and set his hand lightly in his lap.

Taki felt the loss of sensation keenly, so it was with something curiously like relief that he watched Klaus lean forward and unfasten his uniform belt with a few well-practiced movements. Without leaving him space to think, Klaus proceeded to undo the buttons of Taki's uniform jacket.

"Am I the only one who wants this?" he asked, at once pleading for and demanding answer. "Please, Taki, show me your desire."

Klaus's words pulled Taki even deeper into hazy, drugged longing. He found himself inexorably drawn to bury his fingers in Klaus's tawny hair. At the first brush of Taki's hand, Klaus surged into still more frenzied action, rising up on his knees and reaching toward the collar of Taki's shirt. But when he stretched farther, straining eagerly to lick at Taki's throat, Taki had a horrible moment of clarity. They were in full view of the door, and what had earlier remained barely within the bounds of innocent explicability could no longer bear scrutiny.

"Klaus, no," he said in a voice made fierce by anxiety. Klaus immediately dropped his hands and leaned back on his heels, removing himself from all physical contact with Taki. His face shuttered again, becoming blank and cold, but the hands he let drop to his sides fisted as if in a fight against some great emotion. He bowed his head, perhaps thinking to shield Taki from his struggle, but Taki would not allow this, not when he had no wish to cause his knight such pain (as he always seemed to do, so unavoidably, when he let his own fear and doubt make him clumsy.)

"Not here," Taki said, quickly but gently as he was able, and watched Klaus's hands relax in response, though he did not raise his head. Taki felt a flash of despair that Klaus was requiring so much from him, when he did not think he had the strength. This boldness was surely more than he could manage, and yet he could not leave his knight to suffer thus, so manage he must. He rose and removed his remaining glove before reaching out with his newly bared hand, thinking vaguely to help Klaus to his feet, and felt Klaus take it carefully. But no weight or drag followed, not even the light pressure that signalled assistance accepted but, whether out of courtesy or duty or pride, merely for form's sake. Instead, Klaus leaned forward and pressed his lips fervently to Taki's knuckles, resting there for long moments before releasing his hand and rising without even the pretence of aid.

It would do. If nothing else, Klaus at least no longer looked as though he would destroy himself in an unnecessary war against his own desires. Taki could not expect more, whatever he might have hoped. He turned and walked toward his bedroom, trusting Klaus to be ever at his heel. He did not pause until he reached the threshold, but when he did it was with an unpleasant shock of realization. Klaus was not burning with anticipation at his left shoulder as he had expected, but rather was turned away, walking slowly and stiffly toward the door to the hall.

The sight shocked Taki; it was incomprehensible that Klaus should be ceding the field, retreating like a defeated army when Taki had just granted him the victory he seemed to seek. It left Taki afraid that Klaus was, in the end, a better guardian of Taki's honor and duty than he was himself, and so could not bring himself to knowingly break the taboos that restrained them. But no matter how great Klaus's nobility, Taki would not see him brought low by guilt when he himself was already willingly forsworn. There was nothing to be gained from righteous defense of what was already damaged beyond repair.

"Klaus," he said, calling his knight back to his side. Klaus stopped and turned to look at Taki, but did not move toward him, nor did his expression change from its studied blankness. Taki began to fear that no words of his could make Klaus return, that no command would be sufficient. Still, he would not leave him to needless unhappiness alone.

"You were not dismissed," Taki snapped, anger and fear combining to sharpen his tone. He was not certain what he would do if Klaus chose this time to prove that he lacked all authority. But Klaus did not hesitate. He crossed the room swiftly and knelt at Taki's feet, looking up with a face full of the fierce, bright gladness he always showed in such moments and that Taki had never been able to comprehend.

"Forgive me, my master," he said, "for the oversight." The formality of his words was something Klaus reserved for these moments of utmost sincerity, and so Taki knew he had been understood at last.

Taki held out his hand to complete their ritual. Klaus gave him the expected, though no less fervent or sincere for being routine, kiss to his bare knuckles. There was always something in this moment, the warm pressure of Klaus's lips on his bare skin, that was so intimate it bordered on the obscene. Taki knew others saw that impropriety too; his aides grew flustered and uncomfortable when they witnessed it. It was a dangerous indulgence, and yet the hunger and devotion in Klaus's touch meant he would not give it up.

When Klaus again raised his head, Taki acted to forestall his withdrawal, gripping his hand tightly and pulling forward and up, seeking to haul him to his feet. Klaus offered no resistance. Rising this way had caused him to take a step nearer, leaving them separated by scant inches. Klaus towered above Taki, who tipped his head back to watch the expression of baffled delight that he had not known was missing until it reappeared after long absence. It sparked in him the first wholly uncomplicated smile he could remember offering Klaus, born of relief, satisfaction, and joy answering joy.

Klaus's smile changed in reply, becoming soft rather than ravenous, his golden wolf's eyes almost meltingly affectionate. He reached carefully behind Taki and opened the door.

"Shall we, Taki?" he said.

And Taki led Klaus through the door to his bedroom, still clasping the hand he had no wish to relinquish.


End file.
